← v15n2, Fall 2016
Poetry · Volume 15, Number 2

St. Petersburg, Petrograd, Leningrad,Petersburg

Oleg had white teeth, but Natalia’s were golden.

He taught “navigation” at the Frunze; she, physics

at Public School 625. He said literature was “a drug,”

and she came shouting, red-faced from the kitchen.

Dima, twenty-two, drank vodka in the metro

on the way to morning class. He mocked the KGB

right there in the living room. I thought he would

cry when I gave him the carton of Marlboros.

Natalia began to look at me all the time, and Oleg

looked at her looking at me. At the celebration

of Women’s Day, their friends, whose daughter was

still too alive to mention, looked away from Natalia

when she looked at me. They insisted I sit in the

cushioned chair. Had they visited the U.S.? The men

looked embarrassed, they looked like boys

when they said they had seen San Diego

through a periscope.